


Chance is the only game I play, baby

by illuminatedcities



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: D/s undertones, F/M, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 20:06:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3949996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illuminatedcities/pseuds/illuminatedcities
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Good boy,” Zoe says, “We won’t even need the handcuffs tonight.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chance is the only game I play, baby

**Author's Note:**

  * For [potc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/potc/gifts).



> who wanted to see a companion piece to ‘You’re the heat in my bones’ with a Harold/John/Zoe threesome. 
> 
> Title from “Gory and Gore” by Lorde.

“You just love to kneel for him, don’t you,” Zoe says.

John has positioned himself between Harold’s legs, sucking his cock with the same devotion as if he was worshipping at an altar.

Harold, in what must be a heroic act of self-control given the way John twists his tongue and hollows his cheeks, manages to say:

“John, hands on your back please, no skipping ahead.”

It nearly comes out in his usual inflection, except for the little, shaky breath at the end, when John makes a little whine low in his throat with frustration.

John takes out the hand he has shoved down his pants to stroke over his own aching erection and places it behind his back, holding on tightly to his wrist with the other one.

“ _Good boy_ ,” Zoe says, “We won’t even need the handcuffs tonight.”

She is sitting next to Harold, completely naked with her hair falling over her shoulder in waves, body still alive and tingling from where she was spread out between both of them earlier, John licking between her legs and Harold drawing her nipple into his mouth.

She watches John work, shirtless, but with his pants still on, flushed and panting desperately, and kneeling like he was born for it.

Harold, who hasn’t even opened a button on his vest so far, cock jutting out obscenely through the open fly of his pants, gives her a look.

“Handcuffs sound rather uncomfortable, isn’t chafing an issue?”

Zoe smirks.

Harold’s eyes flutter shut when John swallows him down all the way, but he stays perfectly quiet, apparently making John even more desperate with the lack of sounds he’s making.

Zoe looks at him. She thought that she was good at making John shudder and beg for it, but apparently Harold is playing in a completely different league.

“They’re very uncomfortable, and you can see the sore bruises for days. That’s rather the point,” Zoe says.

John has apparently upped his game, because Harold is biting his lower lip, his thighs tensing rhythmically, and then he sighs and grabs the sheets with his hands.

John looks like he could keep it up for hours, but Harold is white-knuckled where he is holding onto the sheets, and then he says _”Oh, John”_ and comes with a moan.

Zoe watches John’s throat work when he swallows, watches him lick Harold clean afterwards.

Harold’s breathing comes short and ragged, his face flushed, and still he moves down a hand with his eyes closed and finds John’s head, patting him like a dog.

John leans into the touch of his fingers, eyes falling shut, drinking in the approval.

Zoe isn’t prone to jealousy: She can see that this is more than sex to John, that while he enjoys being tied up and bossed around by her, Harold _owns_ him.

She doesn’t envy them: The idea to either belong to somebody so completely or to hold another person’s whole life in her hands doesn’t appeal to her, she likes it uncomplicated, getting dressed in the morning and disappearing for a month without leaving somebody behind.

Harold has unbuttoned his vest and is leaning against the headboard, John still kneeling next to the bed because no one has told him to do otherwise.

“Come up here,” Zoe says, “and take off your pants.”

John loses the last bit of fabric and climbs onto the bed. He looks at Harold for direction, which amuses her - when it’s just the two of them, she is in charge, but apparently today a little man with glasses and an expensive suit outranks her.

Zoe grins.

“You’d let him do absolutely anything to you, right, John?” She asks.

 _”Yes,”_ John says, without even thinking about it, and Harold draws in a sharp breath.

“Do what she tells you,” Harold says, and John’s eyes snap to Zoe.

Harold’s mouth is soft with kindness and affection, and _god_ , Zoe thinks, he’s as gone for John as John is for him.

“And John?”

John looks back at Harold, kneeling on all fours, his cock hard and leaking between his legs.

“Well done,” Harold says with a little smile, and John actually _shivers_ at that.

Zoe crooks her index finger and John climbs over her, balancing his weight on his arms.

She pulls him down to kiss her and John follows her lead willingly, letting her run her fingers through his hair, fingernails scraping over his scalp.

Zoe lets her hand wander over his body, his throat and chest, teasing a nipple with her fingernail on the way, making John gasp into her mouth, his thighs quivering a little with the effort it takes him to hold himself up or the sheer desperation of needing to get off already.

She slips a hand between his legs and strokes his cock, fingers teasing the sensitive skin behind his balls, and John says _“Zoe”_ against her throat, his whole body pulled tight like a bowstring.

“Condom,” she says, because as much as she likes to tease him, she doesn’t want to give him a heart attack.

John scrambles to open the drawer of the bedside table and put a condom on himself, letting her position him between her legs and aim him in, and then she doesn’t need to instruct him because he’s marvelous at this already:

Fucking her in long thrusts the way she likes, pressing his thumb against her clit, stroking her in time to his movements when he can feel her getting close.

“I have to say, this was a very good suggestion,” Harold says next to her, where he has recovered a bit and is now watching the two of them with curious, blue eyes, and Zoe wants to point out that Harold and John probably would have taken another few years to figure out their mutual attraction hadn’t it been for her interference, but she gets distracted:

John’s hips snap forward at the sound of Harold’s voice, and Zoe shudders and sinks her nails into his shoulder.

“Do that again,” she says, not sure if she’s talking to John or Harold.

John _does_ , thrusting forward and curling his fingers against her clit just right, and Zoe gasps when the orgasm runs through her in a sweet hot shiver, her nails leaving marks on John’s skin where she is holding on to his shoulders.

“Maybe you’d like Zoe to ride you while I take you from behind,” Harold muses, and that does it for John, he comes with a desperate sob, his entire body shuddering above her.

While John is busy disposing of the condom, looking dazed and blissfully happy, Zoe turns to Harold, who is at least down to an undershirt and boxers now and has climbed into bed next to her.

“I admire your work,” Zoe says, the aftershocks still tingling between her legs.

Harold chuckles. “We make a good team, Zoe,” he says.

John comes back and curls up in the space between them - Zoe would feel suffocated by this much body contact, but John soaks it up like a sponge.

He leans in to kiss Harold.

“All good?” Harold asks.

“Perfect,” John says, kissing the palm of Harold’s hand.

“God, you’re disgustingly sweet,” Zoe says, moving to turn off the light.

“So, about the thing you mentioned earlier, Harold --“ John starts, because he apparently has the libido of a sixteen-year old, and Harold and Zoe groan in unison.

“Go to sleep, John.”

“Seriously, what is the matter with you?”

 

\-- fin


End file.
